A Collection of Shorts
by Wulfeh
Summary: Little one shots that don't have enough substance to stand on their own, but want to be shared. May include shorts from other fanfics that didn't fit in the plot, or little ideas that want to be expanded upon. **character listings may change with updates** :)
1. Afraid of the Dark - He Mele No Lilo

**Here's a little one shot that takes place between He Mele No Lilo and it's eventual sequel.**

* * *

He was not fully aware of what was was going on. He knew, for instance, that his body had just been shifted rather forcefully to the side, and that a new source of warmth had just appeared beside him, but his semi-asleep brain could not fathom why these thing had occurred. Gohan opened his eyes, and at first thought he hadn't. After several blinks, he decided that he had indeed opened them, and there was simply no light for his eyes to register. The arms around him were, however, unmistakable, even in the darkest night.

"Piccolo!" the six year old pushed against his friend's grip. "What are you doing?!"

"The power's out." Piccolo's voice lacked its usual gruffness, and Gohan sighed.

"You're such a baby."

"Shut up."

"I thought you couldn't see in the dark anyway, how'd you find your way in here?" Gohan managed to squirm out of the Namekian's arms enough to sit up. He reached out a blind hand and felt around for his friend's face. "did you use your antennae like feelers or something to sense subtle distortions in air pressure, thus working your way across the hall and into my room?"

Gohan beamed, he could practically feel the blush on Piccolo's cheeks.

"Sure."

Mission accomplished, the boy sighed, and snuggled back down into his friend's arms. He was fully aware that his spiked black hair was tickling Piccolo's nose, but the boy didn't really care.

"Don't worry, Piccolo," Gohan yawned reaching for the blankets, "I'll scare the monsters away."

"I'm not -" Piccolo grunted, and shifted his arm under Gohan's head. "It's the dark, moron. I'm not afraid of monsters."

"Sure," Gohan mumbled sleepily. "Well, the sooner you go back to sleep, the sooner the sun comes up and then you can pretend that you're not a baby for being afraid of the dark."

"Just shut up and go to sleep, Kid."

Gohan nodded in agreement, and draped one arm over Piccolo's neck.

"'Night-night..."

"...'Night."

* * *

**For FirstFemaleNamek, who has been pestering me :) I love you.**


	2. Breakfast in Bed

**This was a lot of fun to write :)**

* * *

**Breakfast in Bed**

Chichi barely suppressed a groan as she surveyed the mess before her. She felt a headache coming on. Trying not to show the horror caused by the destruction of her usually pristine kitchen, she turned her head, taking in more of the damage. Flour, eggshells, bacon grease, splatters of milk and God-only-knows what else covered every inch of her previously gleaming counter top, the stove was littered in filthy pans, dishes were piled higher than she was tall in the sink and – worst of all – her frying pan was nowhere to be found. The woman inhaled slowly, drawing in as large a breath as her lungs allowed, held it, and let it out in minute increments. Chichi turned around slowly, seeing the two culprits shuffling nervously at the entrance to the kitchen.

They had been so, so sweet.

And so very, very untidy.

She supposed it was the thought that counted, as breakfast in bed had been a delightful (and delicious) surprise. Chichi felt a smile tugging at her lips as her superb mothering sense tingled in her breast; they had obviously been hoping to clean up before she finished her stack of blueberry pancakes topped with butter, home-tapped maple syrup, strawberry slices, and whipped cream, her plate of crispy, beautifully fried bacon, her large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and her piping hot chocolate muffin.

Well, not even the speed of Gohan's Super Saiyan II transformation could have cleared away the disaster in the kitchen in time – indeed, the boy had tried. And failed. _Miserably_. But she couldn't bring herself to be angry at her boys. They were only trying to be helpful, to alleviate some of her stress with a kind surprise. Of course, usually a large mess made her stress level skyrocket. Not today. Not even the fiery temper of Son Chichi could flare up at those flour-covered faces for long.

She gave in to the smile, letting it stretch across her lips and crinkle the skin at her eyes. Chichi walked as quickly and as smoothly as her pregnancy permitted, enveloping her boys in a tight hug. She felt Gohan breathe a sigh of relief, burying his head in her shoulder and Piccolo's arm slowly, shyly, creep around her shoulders.

"Okay," she said after a long, warm moment, "who hid my frying pan?"

* * *

**Was anyone surprised that it was after the Cell Games? Probably not right? I think we all know me well enough :)**

**Love you all, and thank you too everyone who reveiwed the previous little drabble :)**

**Talk to you soon, either through ch 5 of _Never Grow Up_, or another update here, or PM :)**

**Oh, and I *might* be willing to take suggestions for eensy-weensy little drabbles ;) Feel free to ask for them, and I'll keep some notes and see what I can come up with!**

**Love always, ~Wulfeh**


	3. Merry Christmas, Mister Piccolo!

**Merry Christmas, 2012!**

**This goes along with a comic I drew, it's on my deviantART account (ShirePower) the link to my profile is in my profile... :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Silvery and soft in the shaded area surrounding the waterfall, snow settled gently upon the floating figure of a man. His long ears twitched, sending some flakes flying on their way. Down, down, down, to the ground below. Piccolo's breath, visible in the cold air, wafted around his face before being swallowed in the icy atmosphere. His nose crinkled against the cold. He could, of course, conjure himself more appropriate clothing, but that would mean giving in to the cold. And that just couldn't be done. No, it was like training in the desert. Only the polar opposite. He wondered briefly if the Kid was going to show up that day, already he was three hours later than usual. That probably meant 'no' Piccolo reasoned, slightly disappointed. Gohan had promised to come visit on "Tuesday, because it's a very special day, Piccolo!" He wasn't sure what made Tuesday, December 25th such a spectacular day, but any day spent with the Kid was a good day in his book. Oh he would never admit it. Better to let the boy think he was annoyed by his presence, than to admit that he relished each moment spent with him.

Piccolo sighed, no, the Kid would not come that day. Slowly he descended to the snow covered earth below. No point in waiting around for – His ears pricked. A ki signature was approaching. His heart rate sped up slightly, maybe it was… Upon further investigation, the ki signature proved to be familiar, but it was not his Gohan. Piccolo huffed quietly. Krillin was alright, he supposed, lips twitching in a frown. Well, he certainly wasn't going to welcome the monk! Sitting stubbornly back down, this time only inches above the ground, he awaited the bald man's arrival.

"Hey Piccolo!" Krillin hailed from above. The Namekian grunted, eyes flicking sideways for a nanosecond. The former monk had an obnoxiously wrapped package in his arms, blue with a huge purple bow. Piccolo's nose crinkled. What on earth? He said nothing, merely grunting in reply. Krillin seemed unfazed, setting the massive box down in the snow. "Got something here for you, from Gohan." His ears pricked at the boy's name. Oh? "Chichi wouldn't let him out of the house, so he had me give it to you." Piccolo had to stop himself from asking the monk about the package. That would be embarrassing, admitting that he was ignorant. That would never do. Krillin stood awkwardly next to him and the blue and purple box for a moment, before muttering something in farewell and flying away.

Once he was certain that Krillin was long gone, Piccolo turned his attention to the brightly wrapped box. Curious, he sat down on the snow, ignoring the cold wetness of the stuff on his pants. He reached out tentative hands towards the box, pulling it up onto his lap. It was heavy. He noticed that it was actually a box and a lid, both wrapped separately. For easy opening? Piccolo fiddled with the lid, sliding it slowly off, only slightly, to peer inside.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS PICCOLO!" A scream erupted from the dark inside of the box, the lid exploded off. Piccolo yelped in surprise as he was hit in the chest by…Gohan, wearing a ridiculous red hat and jacket. Mittened hands wrapped around his neck, a pair of bony knees slamming into his abdomen. Gohan buried his face in Piccolo's neck. "I love you so much, Mister Piccolo, and I didn't know what to get you for Christmas and I don't have any money, so I had to get creative…" Gohan babbled happily, "do you like your present, Piccolo? I really hope you do. I can give you the scarf Mom made me if you want a real present.." This Kid. He smiled, and hugged the boy close to his chest.

It didn't matter that he had no idea what a "Merry Christmas" was, it only mattered that the Kid cared enough to want to celebrate whatever it was with him.

* * *

**_Merry Christmas!_**

**_Wulfeh/Shirepower_**


	4. Don't Question It - Chiccolo

**So, this is more on the T side of the K+ rating... But since not much occurs, I'll leave the rating for now. **

**Piccolo and Chichi**

* * *

Don't Question It

Tentatively, rosy lips brushed against emerald. Piccolo pulled away, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What are you doing?" his voice hitched somewhere in his throat, exiting his mouth a little hoarser than usual. He caught her hand in his, holding her wrist gently.

"Kissing you," Chichi's free hand slid up his chest, under his shirt. Her dark brown eyes, half-hidden beneath her long lashes, captured his own. "Relax." She rolled up onto her toes, kissing him again, longer this time. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, what was this? This sort of behavior could not be appropriate... She pulled away gently, looking up into his face.

"Chichi..." Piccolo allowed her hand to slip through his fingers, his own hand dropping awkwardly to his side, only to hover by her hip. The woman took a step back, her fingers trailing down his stomach, coming to a rest on his belt. "Why?"

"Why?" She repeated, not at all quizzical. "Because you're you, and you're always here. If that's not..." Chichi hesitated, "if that's not dedication, caring, then I don't...know...what is..." She looked confused, but her eyes burned with something reminiscent of her fiery temper.

His brows furrowed as he stared down at her, mouth barely open, still tasting her on his lips. No, this stirring in his chest could not be proper, this was Chichi... Gohan's mother, his dead friend's wife. Not... Someone to kiss...

So why was he cupping her face in his hands? Why was he bending down to be level with her? Why, then, was she wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the lips, and why did he mimic the action, returning the attention?

Her tongue pressed questioningly, and despite part of his brain protesting quietly, he allowed her in, welcomed her, even.

Piccolo broke off the kiss, meeting her gaze. They remained, still, frozen, for a long moment, saying nothing.

"What is this?" he asked, quietly, voice rough. He trailed a hand over her face, fingers quickly entwining themselves in her midnight tresses.

In answer, she pulled him back down to her level, capturing his lips with hers, even as her delicate fingers tickled his ears, eliciting a slight shudder from him.

"This," she whispered, "doesn't need words."

Was this now love felt?

"Don't question it."

* * *

**Did we like? This kind of goes with Match, but it doesn't... Thanks in advance for the reviews and to everyone who has reviewed the other stories! **


	5. New Story Pit Promotional Chapter

**Pit – Promo Chapter**

**Hey! I was sitting around arguing with my writer's block and this happened. I was curious if anyone would actually be interested in reading it if I were to continue?**

**Let me know in a review! Thanks. It would be M for violence and language, and be Piccolo and Gohan based. **

* * *

Voices screamed, cheering and jeering all in one continuous breath. Artificial lights reflected off of the ugly faces of spectators, yellowed teeth bared and brows drawn in angry frowns. A collective gasp rippled across the audience as the Hellbeasts clashed beneath them in the Pit. The violent roars of the grappling monsters mingled with the crowd's noise as they battled for dominance, for their very lives. Blood, blue and black, splattered over the observers in the lower seats, hot and burning the skin. It only added to their sick thrill.  
In the Pit, two demons clawed, kicked, punched, and even bit at each other. The crowd booed as the smaller demon – still a giant by human standards – was hurled across the Pit, slamming into the black walls. Mesmerized onlookers watched as the green-skinned demon sprang to its feet, snarling viciously before leaping back into the horrific blood bath. It kicked its opponent's chest, forcing a roar out of the massive, dragonlike demon. Before it could disengage, the humanoid fighter's leg was raked by the dragon's cruel claws, indigo blood gushing out of the wound. Seemingly immune to the pain, the green Hellbeast continued its attack. It was, however, outmatched in size and brute strength by the dragon. Soon, it was pinned, thrashing like a worm on a hook under its opponent's paws.  
The crowd's collective voice rose and fell with the struggling Pit demon's fight.  
It went limp.  
The dragon's maw parted, putrid breath leaking from between its fangs, and pouring out onto the smaller demon's face, bloodied saliva dripping on its neck and chest.  
Those backing the green demon groaned and cursed, unleashing foul oaths as they reached for their wallets to make good on their bets.  
The assumed winners cheered, sick glee in their raucous voices.  
No one saw what happened next.  
An explosion rocked the stadium around the Pit.  
With a roar of agony, the spiked dragon reared back, a hole punched right through its chest. It toppled over backwards, dead in its own boiling blood.  
The stadium was silent.  
In the Pit, Piccolo panted, wiping the burning fluid from his face. He raised his left hand in a single, unmistakable, surprisingly human gesture, before limping with dignity back to the entrance of the Pit and disappearing into the tunnels beneath.


End file.
